2019-03-03 15:36![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lux_mariko
lux_marikoStory: Her Name
Year: 2989
Word Count: 1151
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Lux, Mariko
Warnings: Discussion of civil war.
Notes: This takes place just after this piece.
“Lucifer,” Mariko echoed after a long, stunned silence.
“Yes.”
“As in…Lucifer.”
“Yes.”
“You’re joking,” she said flatly, turning away from her former lover. “Please don’t.” She couldn’t believe it had taken her so long to realize Lux was lying. She should have known as soon as she heard ‘angel.’
“I’m not,” Lux said quietly. “I am the angel that your people call Lucifer.”
“I mean it. Stop. Stop talking about--you can’t really be an angel.”
Behind her, Lux let out a faint sigh, and Mariko could just picture her shrugging. “Humans cannot pronounce our name for ourselves, so angel is as good a term as any other.”
She turned halfway back to face her--not because she believed her, but her curiosity was piqued. And it was easier--way easier--to focus on the academic question than whatever the hell else was going on here. “What do you call yourselves?”
Lux spoke the name.
The word--or set of words--shone through a cluster of bell-like consonants, and the vowels drifted through the air like feathers in a gentle breeze. It was tonal, too, Lux’s native tongue, rising and falling over a handful of syllables.
And the--angel, really? She couldn’t possibly be--was right. Mariko couldn’t even begin to shape the first cluster, let alone the rest of the word.
“And…and your name?” she asked.
The ang--the other, taller being spoke again. This name rippled through the air, bright consonants buffeted by heavy vowels, sinking to land at Mariko’s feet like an offering.
“It means much the same thing,” Lux said quietly. “Light-bringer, roughly translated.”
She nodded, then looked down at her hands. “I don’t…this can’t be possible.” Mariko wasn’t exactly an atheist, but she had never really believed, either. And even if she had, the potential reality of angels was…it just couldn’t be possible.
“I’m not lying, Mariko,” she said, and she sounded almost sad. “Not to you. Not about this.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I do lie when I need to,” the other said simply. “Mostly by omission. But I will never lie to you again, by omission or any other reason. I promised myself that when I came back here. Mariko, I’m not what your people said I am. Not entirely.”
“Then what?”
Lux didn’t answer right away, and, for a moment, Mariko actually felt guilty. If Lux was telling the truth--and how could she be, except it was looking more and more plausible by the second--then explaining had to be…it had to hurt.
“I fought a war,” she said finally. “I lost it. As to which of us started it…who can say? I have a long lifespan, by your scale, and a memory to match, and I barely recall how it started. But it was an ugly war, and it involved bystanders--not just humanity, but since our home is relatively close to yours, you were the worst affected. We became your myths, and…well, history, as your people say, is written by the victors.” She drew in a breath. “I have had little to do with humanity since my imprisonment, at what you might call the dawn of time. I certainly never manipulated any human into eternal torment. I barely even manipulated my own kind. Those who fought with me did so for reasons of their own.”
“And where does…how does Simon come into all this?” Because that was what had started this whole conversation--Lux had spirited him away, out of reach of both those who wanted to hurt him and those who wanted to help.
Another silence, before Lux answered. “I was forced to withdraw, and with my imprisonment our war nominally ended. But it continued on under the surface. The one you call Simon was bred as a counter-measure to a maneuver from what had been my side. As I told you, our war got very ugly very quickly--at least on our scale--and there were some who forced the continued involvement of bystander species.”
“Like mine.”
She nodded. “Like yours.”
“Then what…what do you want for humanity?” Mariko asked. What do you want with me? she wanted to ask instead, but that wouldn’t be fair. Not until she could answer what she wanted from Lux, anyway. And that question was growing more and more tangled by the moment.
“Nothing,” Lux said.
“Nothing?” It felt like a blow, even though it wasn’t the answer to--it was only the answer to the question she’d asked.
“I…resent, to an extent, that my siblings seem to have more care for your kind than for their own kin, but that’s hardly humanity’s fault. I don’t like external forces interfering with my people.” Lux paused, tilted her head, considering. “Maybe that is why I started the war. If I started it. I am--or I was--largely isolationist in my beliefs. We are older than most species, longer-lived than most, and some might call us wiser than most. Those same angels might say it is our duty to aid other species, when we can. But the more we interfere, the more the others change us. And the Holy One is silent on that topic, other than we are to avoid harm whenever possible.”
Mariko let that hang in the air for a moment, trying to regain some control of her own thoughts and feelings. “Why did you come back to me?” she finally asked, quieter and lonelier than she had ever wanted to sound.
“I don’t know,” Lux said quietly. “Not entirely. I knew you…I knew you had to hate me, for what I did, and you are not without justification. And I knew that my siblings were using you as bait. But I knew that…I knew that I had to try to explain, and I knew that I couldn’t let them harm you, too. I needed…” She drew in a breath. “I needed to see you again, knowing that you could see me, too.”
Something about that rang wrong in Mariko’s head--but not lying wrong, so, for the moment, she didn’t care. “Assuming I believe you…what…what happens now?”
“I…that would be your decision,” Lux said. “I will not tell you where I sent the one you call Simon, but anything else you ask of me, I will try to do.”
And that was temptation, wasn’t it. That road to hell, paved with its proverbial good intentions. “I need to think,” she said.
Lux bowed her head and slipped away. She was gone before Mariko had time to blink.
The linguist perched on the edge of her bed, heart thrumming in her ears.
Angels.
Lucifer.
A war in Heaven--a war that had spilled onto Earth, a war that had never really ended.
She had barely worked herself around to some kind of intimacy with Lux again, and now…
Angels.
A war in Heaven--if Heaven was real.
Lucifer.
What the hell was she supposed to do with that?
Year: 2989
Word Count: 1151
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Lux, Mariko
Warnings: Discussion of civil war.
Notes: This takes place just after this piece.
“Lucifer,” Mariko echoed after a long, stunned silence.
“Yes.”
“As in…Lucifer.”
“Yes.”
“You’re joking,” she said flatly, turning away from her former lover. “Please don’t.” She couldn’t believe it had taken her so long to realize Lux was lying. She should have known as soon as she heard ‘angel.’
“I’m not,” Lux said quietly. “I am the angel that your people call Lucifer.”
“I mean it. Stop. Stop talking about--you can’t really be an angel.”
Behind her, Lux let out a faint sigh, and Mariko could just picture her shrugging. “Humans cannot pronounce our name for ourselves, so angel is as good a term as any other.”
She turned halfway back to face her--not because she believed her, but her curiosity was piqued. And it was easier--way easier--to focus on the academic question than whatever the hell else was going on here. “What do you call yourselves?”
Lux spoke the name.
The word--or set of words--shone through a cluster of bell-like consonants, and the vowels drifted through the air like feathers in a gentle breeze. It was tonal, too, Lux’s native tongue, rising and falling over a handful of syllables.
And the--angel, really? She couldn’t possibly be--was right. Mariko couldn’t even begin to shape the first cluster, let alone the rest of the word.
“And…and your name?” she asked.
The ang--the other, taller being spoke again. This name rippled through the air, bright consonants buffeted by heavy vowels, sinking to land at Mariko’s feet like an offering.
“It means much the same thing,” Lux said quietly. “Light-bringer, roughly translated.”
She nodded, then looked down at her hands. “I don’t…this can’t be possible.” Mariko wasn’t exactly an atheist, but she had never really believed, either. And even if she had, the potential reality of angels was…it just couldn’t be possible.
“I’m not lying, Mariko,” she said, and she sounded almost sad. “Not to you. Not about this.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I do lie when I need to,” the other said simply. “Mostly by omission. But I will never lie to you again, by omission or any other reason. I promised myself that when I came back here. Mariko, I’m not what your people said I am. Not entirely.”
“Then what?”
Lux didn’t answer right away, and, for a moment, Mariko actually felt guilty. If Lux was telling the truth--and how could she be, except it was looking more and more plausible by the second--then explaining had to be…it had to hurt.
“I fought a war,” she said finally. “I lost it. As to which of us started it…who can say? I have a long lifespan, by your scale, and a memory to match, and I barely recall how it started. But it was an ugly war, and it involved bystanders--not just humanity, but since our home is relatively close to yours, you were the worst affected. We became your myths, and…well, history, as your people say, is written by the victors.” She drew in a breath. “I have had little to do with humanity since my imprisonment, at what you might call the dawn of time. I certainly never manipulated any human into eternal torment. I barely even manipulated my own kind. Those who fought with me did so for reasons of their own.”
“And where does…how does Simon come into all this?” Because that was what had started this whole conversation--Lux had spirited him away, out of reach of both those who wanted to hurt him and those who wanted to help.
Another silence, before Lux answered. “I was forced to withdraw, and with my imprisonment our war nominally ended. But it continued on under the surface. The one you call Simon was bred as a counter-measure to a maneuver from what had been my side. As I told you, our war got very ugly very quickly--at least on our scale--and there were some who forced the continued involvement of bystander species.”
“Like mine.”
She nodded. “Like yours.”
“Then what…what do you want for humanity?” Mariko asked. What do you want with me? she wanted to ask instead, but that wouldn’t be fair. Not until she could answer what she wanted from Lux, anyway. And that question was growing more and more tangled by the moment.
“Nothing,” Lux said.
“Nothing?” It felt like a blow, even though it wasn’t the answer to--it was only the answer to the question she’d asked.
“I…resent, to an extent, that my siblings seem to have more care for your kind than for their own kin, but that’s hardly humanity’s fault. I don’t like external forces interfering with my people.” Lux paused, tilted her head, considering. “Maybe that is why I started the war. If I started it. I am--or I was--largely isolationist in my beliefs. We are older than most species, longer-lived than most, and some might call us wiser than most. Those same angels might say it is our duty to aid other species, when we can. But the more we interfere, the more the others change us. And the Holy One is silent on that topic, other than we are to avoid harm whenever possible.”
Mariko let that hang in the air for a moment, trying to regain some control of her own thoughts and feelings. “Why did you come back to me?” she finally asked, quieter and lonelier than she had ever wanted to sound.
“I don’t know,” Lux said quietly. “Not entirely. I knew you…I knew you had to hate me, for what I did, and you are not without justification. And I knew that my siblings were using you as bait. But I knew that…I knew that I had to try to explain, and I knew that I couldn’t let them harm you, too. I needed…” She drew in a breath. “I needed to see you again, knowing that you could see me, too.”
Something about that rang wrong in Mariko’s head--but not lying wrong, so, for the moment, she didn’t care. “Assuming I believe you…what…what happens now?”
“I…that would be your decision,” Lux said. “I will not tell you where I sent the one you call Simon, but anything else you ask of me, I will try to do.”
And that was temptation, wasn’t it. That road to hell, paved with its proverbial good intentions. “I need to think,” she said.
Lux bowed her head and slipped away. She was gone before Mariko had time to blink.
The linguist perched on the edge of her bed, heart thrumming in her ears.
Angels.
Lucifer.
A war in Heaven--a war that had spilled onto Earth, a war that had never really ended.
She had barely worked herself around to some kind of intimacy with Lux again, and now…
Angels.
A war in Heaven--if Heaven was real.
Lucifer.
What the hell was she supposed to do with that?
